The Children of Tomorrow
by Gamedude Primo Locho
Summary: 950 years after the Ring was destroyed something new is at hand, the nation of Gondor is craking and is about to fall under the land of Leithador, but another evil powers lures from within, can the new heroes, with the help of an old mages image stop the
1. The End

Children of Tomorrow  
  
-written by Gamedude  
  
Chapter 1 The End  
  
The old man looked out the window. Outside the whole city was filled with corpses and bones. The city lay in ruins and mostly just kids and women had survived.  
  
A few people were out in the streets picking up the corpses to collect them in a huge pile outside the city to burn them. That was the faith of the brave men and boys, who had fought for Minas Tirith the last hours of the Great battle, being piled up and burned without any real funeral. But then again it would be impossible to count up the huge account of losses, and the stench of death was already tormenting the inhibitions of the city. Maybe it was best this way, they had won the battle, and were saved once again, but not forever, the old man knew this.  
  
It was never forever. About 800 years ago, while the lands of Middle-Earth was still inhabited by elves, there had been a great war against the dark lord Sauron, and before that there had been other wars, evil was never totally cleared. The old man brushed away a little hair who fell into his eyes, he was old, very old, his time was soon trough, for the reason of his life was now over, the enemy was destroyed, and there was peace once again. And though the losses were many he couldn't more than smile for himself, the war was over and good had once again victoried.  
  
Children born after this day would grow up to hear the tales of this war, they would cheerily gather around the fireplace and listen to the stories of their forefathers who fought these wars, and they would smile and be merry. For that is the future, whatever evil happens there will always be merry moments and happy thoughts too. He left the room and walked down the corridor and into the garden, corpses were lying everywhere, men and demons alike, stretched and burned and chopped and twisted, everyone dead. He came by the corpse of a man, he was tall and blonde and held a great sword in his left hand, there was a look of fright and awe in his eyes witch were nailed to the heaven above. Around the man lay many demons that had fallen for his blade, this man had died with dignity, one of many who had sacrificed their lives for the best of those after him.  
  
Rounding the corner of the breached gate of the castle garden the old man tucked the cloak well around himself and drew the hood down his face, he would just look like another mourning person looking for his lost family. The man arrived at his destination, a little house, burned and ruined, but there was still the clear shape of a hidden door in the floor. The old man opened the door and got the smell of death right in the face, there had been battles down here too he realised, he had thought the demons would only care for the gates. With quick steps the man entered the tunnel and started walking, he came over about a dozen bodies on the way, many men, and many demons.  
  
"Help..." came a low whimper, the man gazed into the shadows, and there, with his back to the wall sat a young boy, maybe twelve or thirteen. The boy was hardly wounded, and the old man saw that he needed help, he strode over to him and lifted him up with his strong hands. "Now, now. The battle is over, you can go up to the surface and find your family." He said with a hushing voice, "I don't... I don't have any family... anymore..." the boy whimpered, "My dad..." the shook his head in the direction of the half- burned corpse of a man. "How long have you been here?" the old man answered and cooled down the boys head with a wet piece of clothe. "An hour... maybe two..." the boy got out and took deep breaths. "Are you able to walk?" the man asked, and the boy nodded weakly. "Then I must ask you to leave now." The man said, "and hide the tunnel, and never ever return. Alright?" the boy nodded, "And don't tell anyone where the hidden passage is, okay?" the boy nodded again, "Good." Said the man and let the boy walk against the exit.  
  
He had waited for this moment, always known it would end up like this, but he had never been really prepared for it. He knew that one time in the future, there would once again be needs of him and his knowledge, and that time he could not hope on being "well-preserved" it would probably take hundreds of years, but it would happened. The demons were defeated, but someday there would maybe arise a new power, equally as strong as they were, then he had to be there, to help them, the children of tomorrow.  
  
He walked further into the tunnel until he reached the end wall, there he took out the book he had hidden under his robes and lay it onto the little niche in the wall, opened it and lay his hands on the middle pages. The man closed his eyes and fell into a deep trance. "Spirit, my soul will soon find it's way from my body and into the realm of witch we dead men go, but let me instead give my soul to the pages of this book, to the tormented life of eternity so that I can wait for the new times of war to arise. Let me be there to guide the children of Tomorrow." He said and a light blew out of the pages of the book and he could feel the departure of his soul, and when the light faded, nothing else was there than the open book.  
  
The boy who had been watching turned away and started walking back.  
  
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	2. The new heroes

The Children of Tomorrow  
  
-Written by Gamedude  
  
Chapter 2:  
  
Dahail woke from his bad dream. He looked around him, Gnurrel was lying next to him, he looked like he was asleep, but Dahail knew that he was guarding him. About four feet away from them lay Nimeriel, her lovely young face was still now, asleep as she was. Dahail couldn't but smile, the whole day she had been pushing on for them to get as far away from Lebennin as possible. Next to Nimeriel sat Grimson Durr, he was looking into the sky with his back against Dahail. He was humming the old tune of the Lay of Frodo of the Nine Fingers, his favourite lay, it was filled with heroes and magic and elves and love and... these days you would find nought.  
They had been camping near where Gilrain meets Serni, when Gnurrel had picked up the trail of something. They had followed the trail for three days when they finally reached a forest where they could clearly see the marks of Dunnlanders. After that they had turned away and fled. When they recovered they decided to turn east, to The White City, to speak with the King of Gondor. Dunnlanders had never been seen on that side of the White Mountains, and seldomly that far east.  
"Are you awake?" Grimson Durr asked him and turned around, Dahail guessed he had sensed his presence. "Couldn't sleep..." he whispered, "I can't stop having these dreams..." "What is it, then?" he asked, his big blue eyes looked gently at him, "Maybe it will help to tell someone." "You mean, wouldn't it help to tell a sorceress, so he can tell me what the dreams mean?" Dahail almost laughed, "I didn't say that." Grimson whispered, and his eyes shone brightly, "but I still think you should tell me."  
Dahail took a deep breath, "well, it always start with a great overlook of my beloved Rohan, it is spring and all is well. But then, after that little overlook, I see it burned and scared and filled with shadow. I see my friends, you, Nimeriel, my Mom and Dad as slaves, beaten and followed away. I see myself stand atop a tall peak with the power to prevent it all, but I see myself embrace the darkness instead, and that is always where I wake up."  
Grimson Durr looked into the shadows for a long time, took a few draws from his pipe and was still for a long time. Then he spoke, "It seems to me that this world will, if possible, become even more out of balance, and I fear that Leithador will gain even more power. It even looks like our dear Edoras will fall." "And what about the part about me?" Dahail asked, "I do not know." Grimson said, "but I would like to warn you, do not choose the path that seems easiest if you have not considered it at first." Then he went silent, took a draw from his pipe and looked into the sunset far away. "What do you think he will do?" Dahail whispered, "Sorry?" Grimson said and looked at him, "What do you think The King will do when we tell him of the Dunnlanders?" he repeated, "Nought, I guess..." Grimson said grimly, "The King has less power now than what he had a hundred years ago, The Counsel do the most of the thinking, and they are almost as corrupted as Leithador itself." "Grimson!" Dahail said, "the counsel is the most respected men in all of Gondor and Rohan, how can you say that?" "I speak only the truth." Grimson said and rose from his seat, "You are still young, Dahail, you do not see as well as I the evil of this world. My prediction is that in less than twenty years, if nothing is done, Gondor will be under the rule of Leithador." "Why are you to up at this hour?" the sleepy voice of Nimeriel was heard. "Nimeriel! I am so sorry we awakened you." Dahail said, "Now go back to sleep." "What?" Nimeriel exclaimed, "Go back to sleep?" it is nearly sunset and we still haven't reached Kelos, we should leave straight away." "Nimeriel," Dahail said slowly, "Those Dunnlanders weren't looking for us, they never saw us, they don't even know we exist, why should we push ourselves to the brink of our own health when there is nothing following us?" Nimeriel looked at him, she had the look she always had when somebody said anything against her, "If there are Dunnlanders in Lebennin, the whole area is dangerous. If they dare to go that far, they must have something on their side who is much stronger than we can even imagine." 


End file.
